No Regrets
by Unknown Kadath
Summary: A moment between Rose and her father, the day before the wedding. 10.5/Rose.


"_It's my bloomin' wedding, and I wanna wear my bloody trainers, an' that's what I'm GONNA wear!_"

Rose hunched deeper into her chair in the gazebo, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. It wasn't so much that she felt a headache coming on as she heard it coming her way.

"... my daughter's wedding, want … everything perfect, you ..."

Jackie's voice was a little less distinct from the Doctor's. Whether that was because the Donna in him (though on most occasions it was impossible to separate the two, and most of the time Rose no longer tried, because, in truth, they were one and the same) or because they were moving away—please God let them be moving away …

There were footsteps on the gravel path, and Rose flinched and hunched further until her father ducked into the shade with her, looking around with a hunted expression and running a frazzled hand through what was left of his hair.

"They're not here, are they?" he whispered.

Rose risked a glance around the back of her chair, and saw two figured gesticulating wildly, paused in the act of walking back to the house.

"I think they're going back inside," she said, keeping her voice low. "I think they were looking for me, but hopefully Tony told them I was in the study."

Pete frowned. "Why'd he think you were in the study?"

"Cos I promised him a lolly if he did, that's why."

"Ah." Pete sank into the chair next to hers with a sigh. "And tomorrow, it'll all be over … er, I mean-"

Rose laughed. "I know what you mean. I thought _I_ was the one s'posed to go crazy. They redid the seating arrangements yesterday, did you hear? _Twice_."

"And the guest list," Pete groaned. "Trying to sort things so half of 'em won't have to be retconned to forget the other half ..." He laughed. "Still. You excited?"

"Yeah, Dad," Rose smiled. "Even more than the last ten times you asked."

He nodded, looking serious. "Are you _happy_?"

Rose pushed aside her book and looked at him steadily—not because she needed to pause for thought, but because she wanted him to know she meant it with all her heart. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

He nodded again, looking at the still-arguing figures. One bottle-blonde in expensively tailored pastels, one with a shock of dark, auburn tinged hair in jeans and a suit jacket over a tee and yes, the trainers. Not quite as thin as he used to be and not quite able to hold the memory of a thousand years in his eyes, and not quite as disinterested in the tabloids … but hers, now. Hers for the past year. And forever.

Rose fingered the ring on her finger. And tomorrow they'd make forever official.

"Never told anyone this," said Pete abruptly. "And don't tell her, whatever you do, but … I loved my Jackie. The first one. But sometimes … I like this one better."

And he looked away and down at his hands, swallowing tightly.

Rose swallowed too, and looked back once more at the not-quite-as-skinny man with the red tint in his hair and the Donna-esque screech, and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.

The other one … she loved him and he loved her, but she'd never have had all of him. She could have been okay with that. But this was better. This Doctor _wanted_ to decide on a seating arrangement for the wedding, wanted to come back to the mansion between TARDIS jaunts (not that they could jaunt far yet), didn't get all distant and shut her out when he thought of all the years he'd have to live after her. Sometimes it felt like _this _was the Doctor she'd been destined to love all along.

"If I could have saved her I would have," said Pete, not looking up. "I still would. But I'm happier with—well."

"I'd save her too," said Rose gently. "Tried to save _you, _once … But that's different. I'd save the old Doctor … but I'd stay with this one."

Pete looked up then. "No regrets, then?"

She thought about the other one, the one that was alone, wandering through space and time and regenerations. And she thought about _this_ one, and herself, and her life. "About my life? Wouldn't change a thing."

Pete smiled, slow and broad, like the sun coming out after a threat of rain. "Well, then. Good."

Her Dad. Not the Dad she'd been too little to remember and had met for a single afternoon, but the one she shared her life with now.

"C'mere," said Rose, and pulled him into a hug. "Course I'm happy. Stop worrying, will ya?"

"S'my job," he snorted. "Don't you know all Dads sign a contract? Oh Lord they've seen us-"

Rose looked back and saw what was bearing down on them. If she could just avoid getting sucked into the argument about the trainers or the cake or whatever the hell it was this time for twenty-four hours, she'd be home free. She grabbed her father's hand.

"_Run!"_


End file.
